


opposition and war

by crystallizedcherry



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Berlin demarcation, F/M, Post WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4738583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/crystallizedcherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America wandered alone in the western Berlin right after the war, when the debris were still smelt of blood and smoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	opposition and war

_Hetalia - Axis Powers (c) Hidekazu Himaruya_

standard disclaimer applied

* * *

America just realized that he hadn't put his helmet back on his head after honoring the buried soldiers in that fresh grave smelling like acid rain and sorrow. He walked like no one would look him for, wandered alone in the city of darkness and blood and helplessly crumbling hope, stepping between the debris previously held the people's dream.

He knew England would scold him and Canada would be panicked and kept telling him that he should have been stayed in the headquarter to prepare their departure-now our home needed us, Al-but, no, he needed his own time.

War had never been a good thing. Sure, he liked to be on plane and be adventurous, but not for the battle, not for the sake of human's desire to conquer those who were free. However, world was a building of choices, a labyrinth of doubtful paths-and sometimes he didn't have any more option other than followed the order.

He could smell the smoke, still. It felt like a pang in his chest if he took a longer, deeper breath.

A milkman came across, he smiled and offered the fresh beverages he brought to America by gesture, but the nation could just simply shake his head and smiled bitterly. He passed by, America still remembered how he maintained his calmness while walking between the broken concrete walls, offered white hopes inside the bottle.

The milkman was helping people. He brought new lives-and America questioned his existence. What could he do? Even for voicing the requiem, he refused. Too many deaths to be represented by his soaring, sinful and broken voice.

America stopped by the barbed wires, far away from the city center but he could spot someone else on the opposite, standing with balled fist and bloody military suit.

She was no different from him; all alone with eyes masked with grief, dry lips and wrinkling nose.

"Hey."

She lifted her gaze.

"What's next, Belarus?"

She shook her head. Cold, "Ask Big Brother."

"You are standing here, you must have any idea of the real interest of this stupid wires. Could you guarantee that there would be no war anymore with this demarcation?!"

"Like hell I know!"

"You have to!"

"I have no control!!"

America's fiery blue eyes immediately calmed down, soulless for a moment. "I don't, too ...."

"Neither of us do," Belarus took a deep breath, hands were loosing. "We are nothing when it goes to war except a flesh that they can use in the battlefield ... since we are not as fragile as human."

America, "But could we be the heroes?"

Her lios were a thin line. A pessimistic shook she gave.

"But the world needs peace and freedom!"

Belarus bit the corner of her lips, the action went noticed by America and she didn't aware of it. "When you find out that the life was full of sunflowers and rainbow, remember that there always be a shady place under the dewy leaves, or on faraway cliffs where the rainbow began or faded."

"So it means that war will be exist until the end of the world? You want to tell me that dreaming so is useless?"

Belarus snorted, turned off him on her heels.

"Tell me, Belarus! What war is ahead of us?!"

She turned her head once again. A breath. Her façade was filled by what he knew as the worst and saddest look of a woman he had ever seen. Would a hug drag her off the black hole? If only he could reach her.

"Many."

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: actually i didn't take a specific setting of place for this fic. just imagine the messy city after the world war, and in this case, it is berlin. and the milkman mentioned, i am inspired by a picture surfacing in the internet. actually the photo was taken in london after the german attack, but inspiring thing is inspiring, well? thank you for reading. don't be hesitate to point out my mistake!


End file.
